Between Times
by Egaads
Summary: Have you ever wondered what our favorite Harry Potter characters do in the times NOT mentioned in the books? Well now you know! This is a collection of various short stories based and random characters and the events that take place between times. R&R plz
1. Forbidden Love: Harry and Draco

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!

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Have you ever wondered what the characters in the Harry Potter series do in their spare time, besides what's mentioned in the book? Continue reading and find out! This is a collection of various short stories on what the characters do between times. 

:-:

**Forbidden Love: Harry and Malfoy**

It was Harry's third year of Hogwarts. Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked aimlessly about the castle. Suddenly, for no inexplicable reason, they came upon Draco Malfoy and his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle!

"Look what we have here," sneered Malfoy, looking Harry up and down. For some reason, Harry looked handsome today. Malfoy couldn't help but notice Harry's lean Quidditch muscles! Whoa! Were those ABS bulging from his robes? And look at those pecs!

"What do you want," snarled Harry, even though his mind was thinking, _Wow Malfoy sure is good-looking. _Malfoy caught sight of Harry's steadily growing ever-more handsome face and was at a loss for words. He just stared deeply into Harry's brilliant green orbs. Harry was mesmerized by the profound emotions dancing behind Malfoy's storm-gray eyes. They gazed at each other for two whole minutes, but in those two minutes, they had exchanged enough meaning for two years.

"Ahem," coughed Ron. He startled Malfoy and Harry out of their brief, yet breathtakingly romantic stupor. Malfoy remembered himself and fixed a sneer on his pale, pointed, yet somehow gorgeous face.

"I suppose I'll be seeing you around Potter, Weasley, Mudblood," smirked Malfoy. He sauntered off, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry had to hold back Ron from trying to beat up Malfoy. Hermione just stared after Malfoy's retreating (and really sexy) figure in surprise.

"Is it just me or was he nicer today?" she remarked.

"And more good-looking," breathed Harry. Ron and Hermione stared at him in shock! Ew! Did they just hear what they thought they heard?

"Er… Did I say good-looking? I meant good cooking…" stuttered Harry, trying to cover up his slip of tongue.

"That's still doesn't make sense," pointed out Hermione.

"Er… I meant--" began Harry, but Ron interrupted him.

"Just drop it alright? Just don't say that again!" They continued to walk in silence. Ron and Hermione were still traumatized from what they had just heard and witnessed. Harry tried to neutralize the awkward atmosphere.

"Just so you know," started Harry, "I'm not attracted to him or anything. I just thought he looked nice today." Ron looked at him in disgust.

"I said to drop it!" yelled Ron, absolutely revolted. Hermione just scrutinized Harry's face and turned away.

"Okay, okay, sorry," apologized Harry, "I just thought that the way his hair was sleeked back today made him look sort of, you know… nice."

"I told you to drop it!" yelped Ron. He glared at Harry. "It's really nasty to see my best mate fraternizing with the enemy!"

"Sorry," apologized Harry yet again, but he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "I just wish he wasn't our enemy." Only Hermione heard.

:-:

The next day was Saturday, and it was bright and sunny. Harry stared out his dorm window. All he could think of was Malfoy! Malfoy smirking, Malfoy sleeking back his hair, Malfoy getting hexed, Malfoy, Malfoy, and Malfoy. Suddenly, Hermione popped up behind him even though she was supposed to be in the girls' dorm.

"I know what you're thinking of," began Hermione.

"Er… Quidditch?" Harry pretended he did not understand what Hermione was getting at. Hermione sighed impatiently.

"You're thinking of Malfoy! Just ask him out!" Harry blushed and muttered something under his breath about Ron not wanting.

"Don't listen to Ron!" cried Hermione, "He's just jealous because he likes you too!" Harry stared at Hermione in shock.

"Ron likes me?" gasped Harry breathlessly. He held his hand up over his heart and could feel its beat speed up.

"Yes!" screamed Hermione.

"Screw Malfoy!" Harry screamed back. "I'm asking Ron out!" And with that, Harry flew out of the dormitories and went to search for Ron.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry came back up to the dorms to where Hermione was waiting with a very red face.

"Well, how'd it go?" giggled Hermione impatiently.

"You were wrong for the first time in your life," sighed Harry. "Ron said that he 'just wanted to be friends' and he turned me down! Then he punched me in the stomach! And then he started kicking me! And he said he wished I wasn't such a fairy and a queer!"

"Oops," giggled Hermione. "I lied! It was all a joke! Hahahahaha!" And Hermione laughed and she laughed and she laughed.

"I'm on rebound," said Harry. "I think I'll get a crush on Cho Chang now."

"Ok," replied Hermione, "She likes you, you know. Go ask her out."

"I won't believe you this time," scowled Harry, "And thanks to you, my friendship with Ron is now ruined!"

"Not exactly," came Ron's voice. "Let's just forget this ever happened."

"Ok," said Harry.

"Ok," said Hermione.

And that is why Draco and Ron have never dated Harry. The end.

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Please review:) 

I just wrote these stories for fun, so don't be confused when I skip from Harry's first year of Hogwarts to his seventh! I just write them randomly, but you should be able to figure out the year on your own:)


	2. The Massage Parlor of Painful Doom

**The Massage Parlor of Painful Doom**

It was Ron, Harry, and Hermione's first year in Hogwarts. It was near the end of the school year, and finals were coming up. Harry's birthday would follow soon after, and Ron STILL did not have the money to buy it! Ron needed to start earning money fast, because he only had a couple months left before he had to buy the present. Ron decided to go to Hermione for some help. He looked for her in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Hermione!" cried Ron, "I need help earning money to buy Harry's birthday present!"

"Oh," said Hermione, "Isn't it a bit too early for you to start thinking about that?"

"I've decided to start saving money in advance," replied Ron, "Because who knows how long it'll take before I'll even get my hands on some!"

"That's true," nodded Hermione, "Maybe you can sell stuff to the students here."

"Like what?" wondered Ron.

"Something they'd need… how about homework planners?" suggested Hermione.

"No way! No one would buy those!" yelled Ron. Just then, Dean came running past screaming. Seamus was chasing after him.

"What's wrong?" questioned Hermione.

"Dean's overly stressed! And so am I!" screamed Seamus hysterically.

"Stressed about what?" asked Hermione.

"FINALS! FINALS! FINALS!" howled Dean, running around in circles. "I NEED TO STUDY! STUDY!" Dean broke off with a piercing shriek, which Seamus joined. Hermione and Ron stared at the two frantic Gryffindors, who continued to run about.

"Blimey!" exclaimed Ron, "They're taking their finals way too seriously!"

"As they should! With a homework planner, they'd be able to schedule their study sessions more efficiently, so they won't have to run about in frantic circles!" nodded Hermione in a very superior manner. Ron just snickered.

"Charlie said something about this. First years ALWAYS take their finals too seriously! They shouldn't be worrying about exams until it's time to take their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s. Passing is good enough! Haha! Wait until they get to their fourth year! Soon they wouldn't care AT ALL about their finals! They'll start slacking off!"

"Well I think all exams should be taken seriously ALL THE TIME," sniffed Hermione. "Good thing I started studying for the finals during Christmas. Otherwise, I would NEVER have caught up!" Ron looked at her with a strange expression on his face, and shook his head in a very she's-beyond-help way.

"Anyway, I still have that money problem…"

"Homework planners! Sell those! We can make them and cast little spells on them that howl when you don't do your homework and other stuff like that!" grinned Hermione enthusiastically.

"No way! No one would buy those!" scowled Ron.

"I would! And they're super useful! I have three of them, and I still can't cram enough stuff into them!" yelled Hermione with vigor. Suddenly, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil walked past. Both of them were sobbing heart wrenchingly into their hands.

"Oh!" gasped Hermione, "What's wrong Lavender? Parvati?"

"Oh…" moaned Lavender sadly, "I'll never pass the finals! I'll never graduate from Hogwarts! I'm a failure!" Lavender broke into fresh tears.

"You don't have to worry because you're so smart," sniffed Parvati to Hermione, while gulping down her tears, "But I'm not! I just got seven out of ten on my last piece of homework! I'll never pass the finals! I'll always be a first year student!" Parvati threw back her head and bawled loudly.

"Oh dear," breathed Hermione sympathetically, "There, there, I'm sure you'll do perfectly fine." She patted Lavender and Parvati's backs in a very motherly way.

"No I wo-won't!" shrieked Lavender loudly through her tears. "I won't! I WON'T! I'll fail! I'm absolutely stupid! Leave me alone!" She shook off Hermione's hands and thundered up to the girls' dorms. Parvati followed as well, still wailing.

"Wow! Talk about stressed!" remarked Ron.

"Yes," agreed Hermione, "I was just in the Great Hall, and you should have seen how all the Hufflepuff first years were carrying on, and even some of the Ravenclaw first years were throwing fits, and they usually get good grades in everything!"

"Hm…" mused Ron, "Maybe I can sell them some potion to relieve their stress! Or brain-enhancing brews!"

"Ron, those are illegal! What if they should go wrong?" scowled Hermione. Suddenly, she brightened. "Oh! I have an idea!"

"What?" asked Ron warily, "It's not a new and improved homework planner is it?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"No, Ron," replied Hermione, "I think you should open a massage parlor!"

"A massage parlor?" said Ron blankly, "What's that?"

"It's a muggle thing!" said Hermione in exasperation, "Where you knead the backs of people to make them feel better! It especially works on stressed out people!"

"That sounds stupid," muttered Ron.

"Any better ideas?" glared Hermione. "Otherwise you can sell homework planners!"

"Okay…" agreed Ron a bit unwillingly, "When can we start?"

"Right now! Let's set everything up in the Gryffindor Common Room! And I'll help you massage!" yelled Hermione.

:-:

A few hours later…

Hermione had transferred all the couches and armchairs into beds with her superior transfiguration skills! And she had tons of Essence of Murtlap to help along with her massages. She even hung some sweet-smelling strange potion ingredients all over to create a calming atmosphere. Just then, Neville Longbottom walked in carrying a huge load of books. He was sweaty and disheveled, and half of his face appeared to have some letters ingrained in it, mixed with crusty saliva. He seemed to have fallen asleep on a book.

"Wh-where are all the chairs?" asked Neville bewilderedly, and a little apprehensively. He was a very insecure boy, and it took very little to make him worried or frightened. Yet, he still managed to end up in Gryffindor.

"Hey Neville!" grinned Hermione in very terrifying and eager way as she snatched Neville's books out of his hands, "You're our very first customer!"

"What do you mean?" asked Neville, looking very scared.

"Three Galleons please!" continued the enthusiastic Hermione heedlessly. She stepped forward, hand outstretched, and causing Neville to back away nervously.

"H-here," stuttered Neville. He quickly plunged a trembling hand into his robes and withdrew three galleons, which he handed to her.

"C-can I go now?" he whimpered. Hermione got a very dangerous glint in her eye.

"No! Of course not! You need to get your money's worth! Now take off your shirt!"

"B-but I need to study! Or my grandmum won't be pleased with what I get on the finals!" Neville began to sob in fear.

"I can tell you're stressed," said Hermione, "And I can relieve it! Now come here!" She yanked Neville over to one of the bed and threw him face down on it. Ron stared at her awesome power. He was very, very afraid. Hermione rolled up her sleeves and began to karate chop Neville's back. Neville screamed in agony.

"Stop that Hermione!" yelled Ron in horror, "Why are you doing that to Neville for? He never did anything to you!" He stepped forward to save Neville. Ron was positive that Hermione was slightly unhinged.

"This is called massaging!" exclaimed Hermione, "You're supposed to do this to relieve stress!"

"Muggles beat each other to relieve stress?" gasped Ron in horror. Muggles were such dotty creatures!

"Stop!" shrieked Neville. "It hurts! Stop!"

"Don't be stupid Neville!" chastised Hermione, "This is for your own good! Just relax! I'm relieving your stress! Ron! Bring me that bottle of Essence of Murtlap!" Ron complied. It was best not to anger Hermione in her demented state, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for Neville. He was an unsuspecting victim of Hermione's outlandish scheme. Neville screamed like a person being tortured. He began to cry into the bed, smearing salty snot and tears into the bed sheets as Hermione start to knead his shoulders and work the ointment into his back. Neville tried to struggle, but Hermione put the body bind spell on him to keep him still.

"Don't you want your money's worth?" scowled Hermione. Neville's eyes rolled in terror.

"Stop pinching him like that!" Ron ran forward to hold back Hermione, "Can't you see you're torturing him! Stop!"

"No! He's finally relaxing!" Hermione shook Ron off and continued to pummel Neville's back with her fits. "Must-perfect-massaging-skills," she grunted insanely. She did not know that Neville had already passed out from terror.

"There! Done!" announced Hermione triumphantly. She took the spell off of Neville, but he didn't move. He was still unconscious.

"Look!" laughed Hermione insanely, "He enjoyed it so much that he doesn't want to move! But that'll be three more Galleons if you want to be massaged some more!" Neville still did not move. Ron prodded him a couple of times.

"I think he's dead…" remarked Ron. He shoved Neville off the bed, and wrinkled his nose in revulsion at what he saw. "I think he was a bit too relaxed if you ask me!" There was a yellow puddle of urine staining the white bed sheets! Disgusting!

"Oh great," groaned Hermione, "I never knew he was the bedwetting type! I suppose we'll just clean this one and use the other bed I transfigured." They stepped over Neville's prone form and shoved the wet bed into the fire to dispose of it. It was really nasty! The only way it could be properly cleansed was by burning it to ashes!

"Ok well I guess we should wait for the next customer!" smiled Hermione cheerfully. "You know, I'm starting to get the feel for this! I guess I'm just naturally good at massaging! Look at Neville, he's sleeping so peacefully!"

_You're deranged,_ thought Ron, and he shook his head disbelievingly.

"I don't think this massaging thing is going to work out," said Ron as gently as possible. He could tell Hermione was in some sort of craze. Little did he know that this craze would lead to various others in the future. (S.P.E.W.)

"Don't be silly Ron," laughed Hermione dementedly, "Look, we've already earned three galleons! Here!" She tossed the money at Ron, but Ron didn't take it.

"You earned it Hermione," sighed Ron. "I didn't do anything!"

"Ron! You're the one who came up with this idea!" Hermione rolled her eyes. Ron looked at her like she was crazy.

"I don't even know what a massage is!"

"Now you do! And we will continue with the massage parlor until YOU earn enough money for Harry's birthday present!"

"Maybe YOU will," grumbled Ron grouchily, "But I think this whole idea is stupid! It's completely idiotic of muggles to allow themselves to get beaten in order to relieve their stress! Doesn't it usually cause the opposite?"

"It is NOT idiotic!" screeched Hermione, her hair becoming more and more like an afro, "It really does relieve stress! If you must know, I had a very relaxing massage at the spa while vacationing in France one time!"

"That explains it," muttered Ron.

"You know what?" shrilled Hermione, "I think YOU need a massage! I'll show YOU how relaxing it is!" Ron's eyes widened in horror as Hermione slowly and ominously advanced. The whole room suddenly seemed dark and forbidding, and Hermione's normally brown eyes glowed red in the darkness.

"Laaaaayy doooooooown," hissed Hermione like Lord Voldemort. Her eyes gleamed red like Lord Voldemort as well, except Ron didn't know that. He'd never seen Lord Voldemort before. Hermione moved faster than a rocketing Blast-Ended-Skrewt and managed to bodily throw Ron onto the bed. Ron whimpered in terror as Hermione shoved his face into the toilet-cover shaped thingy. She pulled up his shirt and began to hammer his back violently. Ron was in severe agony! He went into convulsions and began to froth in the mouth. He squirmed in protest, but Hermione once again put the full body bind spell on him. She continued to whack him enthusiastically.

"Must-be-a-perfect-masseuse-and-get-you-relaxed," snarled Hermione in a very psychotic manner. She continued to punch his back mercilessly. She karate chopped his neck, but then her arms got tired. Then, she decided to get a little inventive and dug her sharp elbows into Ron's back as though she were trying to gouge out an eyeball. Under this tremendously painful abuse, Ron passed out as well, and that was the end of that! The massage parlor closed down after only one costumer, and Hermione was left to wonder about her massaging skills. Ron and Neville were carted off to the Hospital Wing. Their recovery from the mental and physical torture took quite a bit out of their studying time. Unsurprisingly, they didn't score too high on the finals.

Anyway, poor Ron had to borrow money from Fred and George in order to buy Harry his birthday present. In return, Ron was Fred and George's unwilling slave for two months. Little did he know that his present would be intercepted by a house elf named Dobby…

The End

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Please review! Thank you so much!


	3. Tom's First and Last Love

Here's another random story:)

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**Tom's First and Last Love**

When Tom Marvolo Riddle was only a seven-year-old little boy, he fell in love with another little girl his same age. Her name was Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. She was a little girl who was very, very proud of her noble name. One day, she managed to escape from her huge mansion and was sauntering down the streets. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, she bumped into a handsome little boy her age!

"Hello boy," said Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI in a very grand and majestic way. She offered his hand for him to kiss. Instead, he shook it. Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI recoiled at his coarseness.

"You were supposed to kiss it!" chastised Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI.

"Was I?" gasped Tom Marvolo Riddle. "I'm sorry!" He was awed by the majestic figure this girl cut, even though she was a bit shorter than he was. She wore a lovely pink gown covered in lace and ribbon, and a fur jacket. Her blond hair was done up in curls and showered abundantly with faux flowers and pink bows. However, her face was pug-nosed and freckled, but Tom did not care. She looked rich! Tom bent down obediantly to kiss her hand. The little girl smiled with satisfaction.

"My name is Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI," she proclaimed snottily. "It's a name that's been handed down over many generations because I am born into a noble and affluent family, which means that I am very rich."

It was then that Tom fell hopelessly in love with her. Not to be outdone, he decided to lie about his name.

"My name," began Tom in a very regal manner, "Is Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV!"

"Wow! I bet you're as rich as me!" cried Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI."

"Yes," replied Tom firmly, "But I'm only wearing these raggedy clothes because I'm in disguise since I wanted to get away from my one thousand servants."

"One thousand servants?" gasped Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI with her piggish eyes as round as Ferris Wheels, "I only have three hundred!"

"That's okay," said Tom in a very superior manner, "I'll let you borrow some if you want."

Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI decided that she liked this boy.

"Perhaps," said she imperiously, "we can get married. Why don't you come over to my mansion that's about as big as England and ask for my hand in marriage?"

"Ok!"

The two children walked hand-in-hand toward Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI's un-humble abode and chatted happily as they walked. Tom felt that he had never met anyone quite like her in his whole entire life. She was meant for him! Her wealth made her peerlessly beautiful, and he loved her superior attitude that was fit for a queen. She was worthy to stand beside him.

"I have my own bank account," boasted Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI, "and it has twenty million dollars in it!"

"That's not much," responded Tom, "I have twenty BILLION!"

"Well my daddy just bought me my own fashion line! It sells clothes with my beautiful face on it! Daddy says that it's doing pretty well!"

"Well my dad just bought me an entire country, and I'm ruling it as king!"

"I'll be your queen then! I'm going to make everyone buy clothes with my face on it, and everyone has to wear pink! Did you know, pink is my favorite color!"

"Oh really? You look beautiful in pink!"

"Heehee, I know that!"

They continued to walk until they reached an enormous hill.

"That's my mansion on top of that! It cost my daddy about two billion dollars!" informed Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI haughtily.

"My mansion is actually a castle, and it cost my dad about a hundred zillion pounds!" claimed Tom.

"Wow! I guess marrying you would make me a princess!" giggled Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. "Oh look! One of my servants is right there!" She pointed to a harassed looking man with messy hair, who was running around frantically. He spotted the little girl.

"Miss Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI!" cried the man with evident relief in his voice, "We've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?"

"I refuse to answer such a boorish little man," declared the bratty heiress with a toss of her curly blond head, "Bring me to daddy. Carry me and my husband here. I refuse to walk up this hill." The wretched man sighed unhappily and complied. He picked up Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI obligingly, and turned to Tom. Tom glared at him.

"No thanks. I'll walk," announced Tom scornfully. The man sighed. He hated his job, but he needed the money.

They reached the mansion, and entered it. The servants bowed as the heiress was carried past them. They wondered about the handsome boy in the threadbare clothing, but dared not ask.

"Daddy!" screeched Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI when she caught sight of a tall, handsome man in a suit.

"Darling!" cried the man, "I've been looking all over for you! Where have you been?"

"Daddy!" shrieked Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI, "I've just met the most wonderful boy! He's really rich! I want him to be my husband!"

Mr. Eyre, looked down at Tom thoughtfully. He sure did NOT look rich!

"What is your name little boy?" demanded Mr. Eyre. Luckily, Tom, because he was so smart, remembered his ultra long name.

"It's Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV!" announced Tom.

"Hm… interesting…" murmured Mr. Eyre. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Would you like to be escorted to your home?"

"No thank you Mr. Eyre," replied Tom fluidly, "I prefer walking."

Tom turned around and went home.

"He seems to be a polite little boy," remarked Mr. Eyre to his daughter.

"Yes father! He's really rich too! His daddy bought him an entire country! I want one too! I only have a stupid old fashion line! And his daddy has a house that cost about a hundred zillion pounds! Why don't we have one? And he has twenty BILLION in his very own bank account!" gushed Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI.

"That's nice darling. I'll buy you whatever you want," said Mr. Eyre affectionately. He spoiled his daughter way too much. "Run along now." Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI complied and ran off to play with her hundreds of ponies.

_Hm…_ thought Mr. Eyre, _that boy sounds a bit fishy. I thought I knew all the wealthy people living around here. I better do a background check! _

:-:

The next day, Tom woke up nice and early to see his fiancée, Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. He snuck out of the orphanage, and began the long journey to Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI's mansion on the top of the massive hill. About two hours later, he finally reached it.

_Ding Dong_ went the bell. The butler opened the door.

"Who are you little boy?" demanded the butler in a very contemptuous manner. Tom vowed that after he married his true love, he'd fire the butler.

"It's Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV," replied Tom stiffly.

"We've been expecting you," smirked the butler nastily. "Come in."

With an ominous feeling, Tom followed the snobbish butler into the mansion and to a large, ornate door. The butler knocked on it.

"Sir," called the butler, "Master Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV has come to see you!"

"Come in," commanded the voice of Mr. Eyre. The butler led Tom into the room, where Mr. Eyre was sitting at his desk.

"Hello Mr. Eyre," greeted Tom politely.

"Hello Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV," smirked Mr. Eyre, "or should I say TOM!" Tom jolted in shock at being found out.

"How…?" gasped Tom, his eyes wide.

"I had you tailed," smiled Mr. Eyre disagreeably, "And I know you live in an orphanage! Say bye bye to your dreams of marrying my precious daughter! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Mr. Eyre began to laugh evilly and maniacally.

"You butt-headed ugly old man!" screamed Tom, losing control.

"Is that all you can say you nasty, bulbous little maggot?" retorted Mr. Eyre.

"You purple-bellied pimple!"

"You oozing midget flea!"

"You're a repulsive rubbishy old fart!"

"Enough of this!" snapped Mr. Eyre. "I am going to call in my gorgeous daughter, Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. Let's see what she thinks of this! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Mr. Eyre threw back his head and laughed and laughed and laughed.

"Call in my daughter you lowly worm!" yelled Mr. Eyre at his butler, who was standing stiffly beside the door.

"Yes sir!" the butler turned and disappeared. Tom gulped with apprehension. He felt that his heart was breaking, and he readied himself for the look of betrayal that he would soon see on his darling's pug-nosed face. Tom could feel the tears beginning to sting his eyes.

"You called me father?" asked Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI primly. Then she caught sight of Tom.

"Father! You agreed!" shrieked Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. She threw herself into her father's arms and squeezed the breath out of him. Tom could feel his pulse rate increasing, due to either anxiety or from seeing his love. It was most likely the former.

"I'm sorry darling," sighed Mr. Eyre. He looked down at his daughter. "This boy is not who you think he is."

"What do you mean father?" queried the blond little girl with her piggish eyes staring up at her father.

"Well…" Mr. Eyre paused dramatically. "He's actually a COMMONER!" Mr. Eyre pointed at Tom as if he were a god condemning a bad man to hell. His eyes bulged impressively.

"No!" gasped Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. "He can't be! Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV! Tell me it isn't true!"

"It isn't true," said Tom.

"He's LYING!" hollered Mr. Eyre. "You were about to marry a lying little lout!"

"But father! I love him!" screeched Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. "He's still a noble! His name is Francis Napoleon Henry George Tudor XXV!" She ran over and hugged Tom.

"What if…" hissed Mr. Eyre, "I told you his real name is TOM!"

Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI jerked away from Tom.

"Is that true Tom?" exclaimed the brat.

"No," responded Tom.

"Ask him to show you a birth certificate! You can tell he's lying then! Nobles ALWAYS carry their birth certificates around to show people!" shouted Mr. Eyre.

"Oops," said Tom, "I must have left it at home in my huge castle."

"Father! He left it at home! Please stop questioning him like this!" pleaded Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI.

"I have his REAL birth certificate! He's an orphan! His mother died giving birth to him!" cried Mr. Eyre. Mr. Eyre produced a huge file and took out a single sheet of paper. He waved it around excitedly.

"Let me see that daddy!" shrieked Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. Mr. Eyre handed it to her. The pug-nosed girl stared at the paper for a minute. "Er… daddy? I can't read," she said.

"See?" bellowed Mr. Eyre pointing to a spot on the birth certificate, "See? His name only has three words in it! And his first name only has three letters!"

"Oh I see!" acknowledged Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI. She turned to Tom.

"I wouldn't have minded if you were poor Tom," she said, "But I can't ignore the fact that your name is so COMMON! I mean, there must be about a bajillion Tom's out there in the world!" Mr. Eyre smiled proudly at his daughter.

"Well said, my precious Clarissa Circe Elizabeth Hecate Leona Helen Eyre XI." He smirked hatefully at Tom. "Get out of my sight you lowly COMMONER!" He snapped his fingers, and the butler grabbed Tom by the scruff of his neck, and threw him bodily out the mansion.

"I HATE MY NAME!" screamed Tom, once he had finished rolling down to the bottom of the hill. "MY NAME IS SO COMMON! I KNOW I'M SPECIAL! I DON'T DESERVE THIS DUMB NAME!"

The loss of his true love, riches and power, had greatly affected Tom. It was from then on, that the first seeds of hatred and bitterness at his lowly name began to sprout in his young heart…He would soon become:

LORD VOLDEMORT!

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Review please! ;) 


	4. Snivellus Black

Disclaimer: Harry does not belong to me

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Snivellus Black**

Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter were lounging lazily under the tree beside the Great Lake. It was their fifth year in Hogwarts, and they were really bored.

"James, aren't you bored?" queried Sirius. He was really bored. He brushed his glossy black hair away from his gorgeous face, and reclined elegantly against the tree.

"Study for the potions exam then," offered Remus Lupin. He tossed a heavy book onto Sirius's lap.

"I know it all," sneered Sirius scornfully. "There's really no point when we can be doing other things." Beside him, Peter Pettigrew squealed excitedly.

"Wow oh wow!" giggled Peter, clapping his hands, "What a catch!" James Potter smirked as he made another fantastic capture of the Golden Snitch, which he was idly toying with.

"Oh spare me," groaned Sirius, rolling his eyes, "I thought you got rid of that thing!"

"Just training," replied James. "Besides there's not really much to do anyway. I don't need to study, and I'm kind of getting tired of Hogsmeade. Been there too many times to count!"

"Why don't we prank someone?" suggested Sirius. "We haven't pulled one in ages! Hopefully I'm not getting too rusty!"

"I feel like pulling one on the giant greaseball," leered James nastily as he stuffed the Snitch back into his robes.

"Me too," agreed Sirius. His eyes shone as he contemplated the many cruel tricks he could pull on the slimy Severus Snape.

"Merlin, I hate that guy. He's the lowest of the low," grumbled James.

"Yep! Yep!" assented Peter eagerly, as usual. He nearly peed his pants in his excitement. Deep down inside, Peter Pettigrew was a sadistic little freak that enjoyed witnessing the pains of others.

"That unnatural maggot." Sirius's lip curled in disgust. "I saw him leaning against the wall the other day, and when he got up, there was this huge oily stain on the wall."

"I'm surprised he isn't slipping in his own grease," scowled James. The thought of Snape ignited utmost loathing in his heart. Just looking at IT just gave him chills down his spine. Absolutely repugnant!

"I just want to obliterate that grotesque piece of work," growled Sirius darkly.

"Any ideas on how to prank the infested greaseball?" asked James. Lupin looked up from the thick textbook he was currently immersed in, and stared disapprovingly at Sirius and James. Peter began to pant in a sick, eager little way as he anticipated the humiliation that would soon befall the unfortunate victim. Sirius's eye fell on the potions book that Lupin had thrown at him, and a perverse smile grew on his handsome face.

"Hehehe," chuckled Sirius ominously, "This will be a good one." He leaned close to James and began to whisper rapidly in his ear. Peter tried to squirm in as close as possible to the two and listen as well. A slow smile began to spread across James's face, and Lupin watched the three apprehensively.

:-:

Later that day, two strange things occurred: A figure snuck into the Potion Master's office and stole a flask of potion, and two figures ambushed a Slytherin named Serverus Snape and stuffed him into a broom closet. They took a strand of his greasy, oily hair and all of his clothes except for his moldy gray boxers. The three figures congregated in a room that wasn't always there on the third floor of the castle. There, a fourth figure awaited them.

"Did you get everything?" asked the fourth figure, who turned out to be no other than Remus Lupin. "Are you sure you want to go through with this? Is it too late to stop you?" James Potter snorted contemptuously.

"How many times do we have to tell you, Remus? This prank will be excellent!" A grudging grin began to spread over Remus's face.

"I suppose," he sighed. "Let's get started shall we?"

"I can't wait," smirked Sirius Black. "Peter! Did you get the Polyjuice Potion?"

"Yes!" yipped Peter Pettigrew fervently. Devotion shone in his squinty little eyes. He helped up a flask filled with an unidentifiable substance.

"I have that slimeball's hair right in my pocket," stated James with a grimace. "You don't know how disgusting it feels in my hand right now. It's so oily that I'm having trouble trying to hang on to it! It keeps slipping away!" The other three laughed at this.

"Shall we commence?" grinned Sirius. He took the strand of hair from James and plunked it into the Polyjuice Potion. It turned a murky, duck poop green and looked a lot like a swamp.

"I suppose it's to be expected of that oily worm," remarked James with obvious revulsion. "Who wants to drink it? It probably tastes worse than it looks!"

"You drink it! I'm not putting that flask near my face! It probably smells revolting!" yelled Sirius.

"Well it was your idea!" argued James.

"Fine!" snapped Sirius, "But you owe me!" Sirius snatched the flask and drained it in one gulp. His face distorted as the awful flavor slipped past his tongue, and he gagged as it continued it way down his throat. Then, his stomach contorted and he felt like retching, but he struggled to keep it down.

He watched James, Remus, and Peter gape at him as he felt himself changing. His arms shrunk to pallid sticks, and his hair began to grow evermore greasy. He could feel his nose stretching out and becoming hawk-like, and he could tell that he was growing more gruesome by the minute.

Once the transformation was complete, Sirius grinned and smirked, "Shall we start with photos?" James gawked at him.

"You don't know how weird it is to see Snape grinning like that! It's really nasty! Please stop!"

"And you'll see Snape do even weirder things!" Sirius gave a bark-like shout of laughter. "Take out the camera!" Sirius began to take off his robes, revealing Snape's pale, unattractive lanky body. Snape looked like an uncooked, pallid chicken, complete with goose bumps!

"No wonder Snape is so bitter," commented Lupin.

"Gross," groaned James. Peter cackled with glee, and rubbed his hands with elation.

"Get into a sexy pose," commanded James with a sadistic smile. He raised the camera. "Smile…"

:-:

"Ok, now we're done with that, what do you want me to do next?" asked Sirius, who was still in Snape's body. He took another gulp of the Polyjuice Potion and his face twisted once again as the unappetizing flavor flowed into his stomach.

"Run down to the Great Hall naked and do the Acromantula!" urged Peter.

"I don't really want to see Snape naked," shuddered Remus, "Just seeing him in nothing but undergarments is enough!"

"Why don't you put on Snape's Slytherin robes, walk around, see what happens, and act stupid?" recommended James.

"Ok," said Sirius-in-Snape's-body. Sirius good-naturedly pulled Snape's grubby robes over his head and left the Room of Requirement. He tried to walk in that shifty, nasty little way that Snape walked. James, Remus, and Peter followed at a distance. After all, what would people think if they saw them, the gods of cool, hanging out with a slimy, pasty little string bean like Snape?

Sirius strode down the hallway. He spotted a group of hot Ravenclaw girls clustered in a corner giggling. He decided to take this chance.

"Hey girls," grinned Sirius sexily. To the girls, what they saw was Snape TRYING to grin sexily at them. They shot him dirty looks and turned away. Sirius snickered to himself and tried to crack some cheesy pick up lines.

"Did it hurt?" began Sirius, thinking of the corniest one he knew. The girls gave him the evil eye.

"What?"

"When you fell from heaven!" finished Sirius. James, Remus, and Peter sniggered appreciatively from their hiding spot in an empty classroom. The looks on the girls' faces were hilarious as they stared incredulously at "Snape".

"Who do _you_ think you are?" said a girl looking "Snape" up and down with evident disgust.

"A thief and I've come to steal _your_ heart!" responded Snape/Sirius.

"His cheesiness is starting to scare me," whispered James to Lupin from their hiding spot.

"Yeah. Who knew?" agreed Remus. Peter just gazed adoringly at Snape/Sirius. Saliva dribbled down his chin. He was probably memorizing those pick up lines for later use.

The girls were starting to walk away.

"Wait!" cried Sirius pretending to sound desperate, "You forgot something!"

The Ravenclaw girls turned to start at him with very annoyed expressions.

"What?" one snarled.

"ME!" yelled Sirius in his most dashing and charming way, except his dashing-ness and charming-ness was on Snape. It just came out disturbing. The girls scoffed as though they couldn't believe him, and hurried away.

_This is turning out better than I expected,_ though Sirius evilly. The evil grin on his/Snape's face matched the evil grins on the three people watching him from afar. This was sooooo fun! Sirius decided to look for Lily Evan's group of girls. It would be fun to see how they reacted to his yucky pick-up lines.

:-:

Sirius found Lily and her group of friends next to the Great Lake. He slithered over to them, trying to catch them by surprise as they soaked their feet in the water and watched the Giant Squid swim about. Sirius put a heavy hand on Lily's shoulder.

"Go away James," growled Lily without turning to look at who it was.

"I'm not James," said Sirius in the deepest voice he could muster. Lily turned to him in surprise and realized it was Snape. Her scowl magnified.

"Get your hand off of me Snape!" she shrieked.

"I can't help it!" yelped Snape/Sirius, "You must be a magnet because you're attracting me to you!" Lily recoiled in horror and stared at him.

"Ew…" said her friends simultaneously. They watched what Snape/Sirius was going to do next with eyes as round as galleons.

"If you were a bogey I'd pick you first," remarked Snape/Sirius.

"What is UP with you SNAPE?" exploded Lily.

"She was always a feisty one," muttered James from his safe spot a few yards away.

"Get AWAY from me or I'll HEX you!" Lily drew out her wand. Snape/Sirius beat a hasty retreat, leaving Lily and her friends staring after him in disgust.

"I was sort of hoping for more," sighed James.

_What to do next…_ thought Sirius. He went back to the castle and continued walking. Along the way, he danced badly for a couple of students, and serenaded some of the teachers in an awful, screechy voice. Snape's reputation was in ruins.

Just then, Sirius saw Professor Slughorn coming around the corner.

"Severus!" greeted Slughorn cheerfully, "Hello m'boy! How's it going?"

"Bad you fat walrus!" screamed Snape/Sirius. How good it felt!

"Fat WALRUS?" screeched Slughorn indignantly. "Two hundred points from Slytherin for speaking to a teacher like that! Plus, detention!" Sirius did a little dance inside him. His three stalkers did a real dance from their spot behind him. Gryffindor would win the house cup!

"I WAS going to invite you to my office for some crystallized pineapple and oak-matured mead," snarled Slughorn angrily, "But now I'm not!" The Potions Master walked away muttering furiously about ungrateful students.

_Hehehehehe,_ thought Sirius evilly. Just then, he could feel himself changing back. The potion was wearing off! Sirius decided to make a dash for it. He headed to the Room of Requirement, followed by his three friends.

:-:

The next day, the students of Hogwarts enjoyed a huge and unpleasant surprise! Up and down the Great Hall hung hundreds of pictures of Snape in very suggestive poses! It was absolutely disgusting! There was one of Snape looking like he was completely nude and trying to muster up a sexy expression. Unfortunately, he just looked constipated! Then there was another one where he was nude to the waist with a blanket covering him and lying on his side, propped up on one arm with his tongue hanging out in what was supposed to be a lust-inspiring pose. What made it infinitely worse was that these were pictures taken in the wizarding world, so Snape was moving and shifting positions in every single one of them. He looked like a retard. Snape's supposedly nude pictures got worse as the line of pictures went on.

"Y'know mate," muttered James to Sirius as they admired a photo of Snape humping a cauldron, "I feel really bad for Snape. Having you in his body still can't make him any sexier! Though, that shouldn't be a surprise."

"That's because he's a slimy little greaseball," snorted Sirius.

"I wonder what he's doing now …" wondered Remus out loud.

:-:

Severus Snape had had a very trying day. First, he had woken up in a broom closet in nothing but his boxers. Then, he had to run down the halls, exposing his skinny naked chest! Along the way, hordes of girls had screamed "Pervert!" and a few actually went up to slap him. Then, Lily Evans hexed him for no reason at all, so now he had large, painful boils all over his body. To top it off, his favorite teacher, Professor Slughorn, had put him in detention as well! Which was why he was in the cold, empty classroom scraping frog scum off of the desks. He didn't even know the reason for his punishment! The horror of it all! Also, everyone in school was snickering nastily at him. At first, he thought they were complimenting him on his "sexiness" but he realized that this was not so when they kept bursting into maniacal laughter! Usually, he was unnoticed and tolerated, but now, EVERYONE suddenly knew him and he was the butt of some mysterious joke! Snape figured it was probably because he had to run down the halls with no robes on, but it couldn't have caused such big of a deal! Anyway, he was still trying to figure out how he ended up in the broom closet in the first place. Over night, his rank as "loser" had sunk down to "subhuman." He was no better than a piece of lint. Snape continued to scrape furiously at the dried, crusty frog slime. He vowed that one day, he would rise above them all, and then he would take his REVENGE! Snape erupted into maniacal laughter, and it echoed throughout the dungeons…

THE END

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